4 Chapter 4

“Mick,” one of them said, coming over. “Long time, no see.”

Jax replied, “I know. I’ve been out of town.”

“Saving the world?”

“Not quite.” Jax laughed. “Just some things in a couple of stately homes that the owners wanted brought back to their original condition.”

“You’re an interior designer?” a man who had taken the seat next to him asked.

“Nope, I’m a private art restorer.” Jax chuckled. “I mean I work privately, not for a museum or gallery.”

“That must be interesting,” the man replied.

“It has its moments.” Jax turned away to take a sip of his drink when the bartender set it down. He hadn’t been quite lying, or quite telling the truth. He did do restoration work—on antiquarian books and very occasionally lithographs and etchings.

“Sorry,” the man said, starting to get up. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not.” Jax smiled, holding out his hand. “I’m Mick Ingram.”